Saints of Sweetwater
by Abstract Art
Summary: In a small town in New Orleans, vampires and lycanthropes are often at war with each other,witches enjoy human heads and spirits never rest, but the blood games are turned up tenfold when a new resident arrives in the supernatural world of Sweetwater.
1. Chapter 1

**This is my third wrestling fiction that's been lingering in my mind for quite some time now. My inspiration for this story comes from my current addiction to the TV show True Blood, even though these characters don't really reflect the characters from the show. The setting of this story is in a fictional, rural town and yes...there are vampires and lycans and what not. I wrote it in the eyes of Erika for the most part, but there will be several chapters told by the main superstars in the story for the effect. Summaries are welcome. Enjoy. Warning: Don't read if you can't handle the sick and twisted creativity. **

**Disclaimer: I own no one in the WWE. I only own Erika and Isaac Proctor.**

**Summary: Erika Proctor was only hoping to reunite with the only living member of her family, her older brother Isaac Proctor, but she is not prepared for the estranged, supernatural living conditions of Sweetwater. **

**Chapter 1**

I had one of those awkward moments when I found myself smiling without mental consent and couldn't stop it before it was too late as my red Chevy pulled up into the driveway of my new home. It was a one story home, surrounded by several acres of pretty, green land. I was rather surprised to see the sunshine setting on the horizon behind the peaceful structure. Seeing as though I had just moved from the city of Miami, I'd never seen the sun expell such beautiful purplish-pink colors and especially not where I could actually prop up a chair and just watch it set. I made a mental note to do that in just a few hours because night was approaching. Just me and my precious cat, Casper. Speaking of the spoiled little demon, as soon as the truck's engine died, the fullgrown body of black fur leaped from the front seat to my lap in one almost invisible motion, nuzzling his tiny, warm head against my chest. I laughed softly because I always thought he was only attracted to the lime green sundress I was wearing, decorated in large, white polkadots. But soon made the assumption that he was just as excited as I was to have finally arrived at our new home in the town of Sweetwater.

I held Casper beneath my arm as I pushed open my door, the old hinges letting out a whine as I swung my legs out to disembark. The air in Sweetwater was warm and a bit humid, but all the more welcoming. I took a moment to look about the unfamiliar rural area. Towering oaks and pines swayed in harmony in the breeze and I realized that my neighbors were atleast more than half of a football field away from me. And, of course I had found that strange, being used to the studio apartment where I resided in the city. I knew I would miss Miami, but it was my decision to leave after all, to start over and live life the way I was intended. When I called my brother, Isaac, and told him about my plans, he was both surprised and overjoyed to hear about the reunion. We hadn't seen each other for five years after graduating from college which was a bit tough on the both of us. Our parents died when we were both in high school, leaving us to our Grandmother who had a difficult time herself trying to tame "The Devil's Syndicates" as she used to call us. It was practically Isaac and I against the world and having been mere children when we were officially just that, we vowed to each other that we'd stick together forever. He's the only person I have left in the family to make long story short and quite frankly, I wasn't enjoying my life in Miami. The noise, the crime, my job as a receptionist at a mental institution. I shook my head at the very thought of that horrid place and that rank stench of sweaty, dirty patients like prisoners of war. That was exactly what they looked like, helpless vessels trapped in a concentration camp with thick, pillowed walls and sometimes glass boxes the size of my old apartment.

Not too long after I shut the door to my truck and walked around toward the U-Haul hooked to the bumper, I noticed two male figures walking up the long, rocky driveway leading to my house. I squinted to see who they were, preparing for the greetings of both enemies and friends. They actually seemed quite harmless since they were both smiling, but that wasn't the main factor that caught my attention and made my eyes almost water. The man who was the most handsome and stood at about six-foot-five with shortcut black hair had taken off running toward me. And instinctively I took off runnning right back at him. Both of our arms were open for an embrace and pretty soon my feet were no longer touching the ground and his arms were wrapped tightly around me, spinning me around and around until I had to close my eyes to keep from getting dizzy. "Isaac!" I exclaimed with joyous laughter.

"Took ya long enough, Rika Darlin'." My older brother returned the laughter and excitement as he stopped spinning and allowed me to slide back to earth. "I can't believe you're actually here. I mean, after five years, I thought you would've forgotten about me by now."

I shook my head and hugged him again, laying my head against his chest. He smelled strongly of pine and ginger, a famous combination apparently in these parts. "How could I? Its you and me against the world, remember?"

He chuckled at that, obviously recalling when we made that vow. He was 13-years-old and I had just turned 10 at that point in time. "I'm surprised _you _remember, actually." He took a step back and held me by my shoulders, a sincere look crossing his face that I hadn't seen since his college graduation. "You have no idea how happy I am to see you. How was Miami? Gran told me you found yourself a nice lil' city beau out there."

I glanced from his rich, cornflower blue eyes to the grass beneath our feet, then back at his gaze, shaking my head slowly with a smile. "It wasn't what I dreamed of when I was a little girl, I can tell you that." I replied, then remembered the man I had met while I was in Miami. He was a filthy rich hispanic guy named Alberto. A total overly possessive, arrogant, cocky, ass hole actually. He managed to cheat on me four times in two years without me knowing until late then had the nerve to accuse me of being devious and sneaky and dumped me like a sack of dead meat, as if I was the one who had done wrong. "And I'd rather not get into that subject of uh-"I cleared my throat a bit. "My past love life."

"Erika, just let me know if I have to march my ass on up to Miami and blow a hole in the mother fucker's head for hurting my little sis. Just give me the word and I won't hesitate."

"No, no, no. It's okay." I put my hands up to settle him down. He always hated the boys I dated, eversince I picked up that abusive jerk in high school, Alex. The son of a jock bitch... "I'm so over him now."

"Well look at you!" Isaac suddenly exploded into laughter, looking at the shorter man standing next to him who returned the smile just because he could. "She got herself a cute, little city girl accent, too, Johnny boy!"

I blushed a little, then frowned when I heard the unfamiliar name. He stopped laughing the second he saw the confusion on my face. "Oh, I almost forgot. Shame on me." He reached out and layed a hand on the unknown man's shoulder. "This here is my boy, John Cena. Come on, don't be shy. My sister only bit people when she was a wee little cub."

My eyes widened at him before I sent a polite smile toward the man called John Cena and reached out to shake his hand. "I'm Erika. Erika Proctor." I introduced myself as he gripped my hand...and just about crushed it. I noticed he was built like a goddamn Marine beneath his white T-shirt and jean shorts and had the cutest dimples I had ever seen on a grown man.

"Nice to meet you, Ma'am." He replied warmly. "This house you just bought used to be mine. It's a pretty nice living space."

"Oh?" I raised my brows at him and nodded slowly. "Where are you now?"

John turned and pointed down the dirt road at the end of my driveway. "You drive down a couple miles and I'm in the red brick house. You should be able to see my John Deere parked out in the front lawn. Or my boyfriend fixing up the vegetable garden atleast."

"Oh, so you're _not _single." I reiterated, hiding disappointment behind a friendly laugh.

"No. Sorry." John shook his head at me and laughed as well. "I'm not into women anyway."

At that, Isaac cleared his throat and rolled his eyes. "You used to be before you met that big bad wolf." He stated humorously.

"Shut up, Isaac." John playfully punched him in the arm. "Wade's more like a gentle Pomeranian."

Isaac shot John a glance that was highly doubtful as if to say, "Yeah, when pigs fly, bitch."

"So, can you guys help me get settled in?" I asked cheerfully, clapping my hands together. "Casper and I would like to rest before nightfall."

"A bit late now, don't ya think?" Isaac pointed out, looking past my house at the setting sun. I turned to follow his gaze and could no longer see it. The darkness was rolling in quickly. "Don't worry though." Isaac gently touched my arm. "You can stay at my place while John and the crew unpacks your furniture and what not."

I gasped. "That would be great. I've always wanted to see how you live down here in the bayou anyway."

...

A few others I didn't know arrived at my new house after Isaac, Casper and I left in the pickup. It didn't take us long to get to the ranch, I'd say the drive was only about ten minutes. Knowing that he lived that close to me was reassuring. His house was nicer than I expected. It was built to look like one of those fancy log cabin resort places out in the mountains of Tennessee and the inside resembled just as much. Animal-skin rugs, antlers and shotguns hanging from the polished, wooden walls. He even had a fireplace right in the family room made of granite.

"Well, I'm officially impressed." I stated, smiling as I stood in the foyer with my luggage, lingering just to inhale the rich, lemony scent of the house. He must've used a hell of a lot of Pledge to polish all the wood he had in the house, inside and out.

"I try." Isaac shrugged, walking toward the kitchen. "I already have a room ready for you upstairs. You hungry?"

"Just a little." I nodded, pinning my fiery red curls behind my ear only to have Isaac turn and look at me with that same unconvinced look he gave John when he mentioned someone named Wade being a gentle Pomeranian. I sighed and playfully rolled my eyes. "Alright, I'm _starving."_ I corrected myself and Isaac simply laughed and continued toward the kitchen.

"I know ya way too well, sis." He stated with a chuckle. "You used to love to eat when you were in middle school. They didn't call you Pie Face for no reason, y'know."

"Ugh." I followed him into the kitchen. "I wasn't fat! Just a little...thickish."

Isaac chortled as he opened his refrigerator and pulled out a large, glass container. "I got prime rib here. I know you _love _you some ribs. Especially when they're home-cooked."

I licked my lips at the sight of the container, remembering how well Gran used to cook pork ribs for us before we were living with her. I had atleast an entire slab every night before bed and about two slices of her million-dollar sweet potato pie. Which was probably why I was so thick in middle school. Thank God I had slimmed up by the time high school came around. "You made them?"

"With Granny's recipe." Isaac just about sang the words as he unlidded the container and stuck it in the oven, turning it up to about 400 degrees.

It was ready within minutes and we ate as if we hadn't eaten in days. Especially me. I literrally hadn't eaten all damn day. After dinner, Isaac helped me carry my luggage up to my well-prepared guest room. The walls were painted a pretty ocean green and the furniture was mahogony to match it. By that time, there was no sunshine left in the sky and the little critters outside had begun to greet the night with their constant screeching and chirping. I unpacked my belongings like I was in a hotel room, even setting up my curling irons in the bathroom connected to my bedroom. My excitement continued to grow even after I had settled down, showered, and changed into my favorite silk white nightgown.

The night would more than likely be sleepless.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

_"You're such a pretty, little girl. Just like your mother used to be." Gran's voice was gentle in my ears, despite its roughness of age and while her gloved hand ran a brush through my straightened copper curls, I fiddled with a shinning object in my hand - a pretty, golden locket containing a picture of my dearest mother._

_"Was she bad like me when she was a teenager, Gran?" I asked in the same soft voice, my eyes cast down upon the lovely lady trapped within the locket, her reassuring smile and ocean green eyes gazing back at me and the longer I stared, the more I felt like crying._

_Gran simply laughed and met the eyes of my reflection. The aged features of her red face hardly effected the beauty she carried within and without. I noticed each time she smiled at me and I felt like nothing in the world could go wrong because I had an angel like Gran as my oasis. "That sort of thing runs in the family, my dear." She ran her index finger under my bang, her long nail tickling my forehead. In that instant, I felt something go off inside me and tears began to flow uncontrollably. Gran took me into her arms and as I buried my face in her neck, I noticed that she smelled like the garden she kept outside in front of the house and felt warm like the quilt she made for me before Christmas. I knew Isaac was watching from the doorway, probably in jealousy because Gran never gave him the attention she gave me. After all, I was the one taking Mama's death the hardest._

_Suddenly, the both of us were startled by a loud thud and looked back just in time to see Isaac laying facedown on the carpeted floor. Gran gasped and I just about choked on my cry when we saw the tall figure now standing in the doorway. With eyes like ores of ember and dagger-like teeth that flashed in the old-fashioned candlelight Gran had hanging from either side of the doorway, the man stood with an air of malice about him and I noticed that his head nearly reached the top of the doorpost. He was featureless, his entire body like a shadow, but shaped like a man. A large, naked menacing grin he wore on his face sent shivers up my spine, tingles across my skin. He was looking dead at me with those eyes, neither blinking nor moving until his right hand slowly reached for me. "She is alone because of you." He spoke and I could have sworn a snake had uttered the words. "Alone because you and your brother were too much for her to bare."_

_"What do you mean?" I asked before I could even think about it, wishing I hadn't when he tilted his head at me eerily._

_"My child, your mother doesn't have to be alone any longer." The man, that demon, continued, taking a step toward us._

_I tucked myself behind Gran, but only to find out that she was frozen, staring straight ahead as if unaware of the world. Comatose. "Stay away from me." I demanded shakenly, gripping her sleeve._

_"You worthless brat, you deserve to join her...IN HELL!"_

_He suddenly rushed at me and all I saw was a shadow-like blur and then I saw nothing else. Only my shrill cry of horror could be heard._

"Damnit, Rika!"

I felt my body snap upward in a violent motion in response to the sudden loud male voice, something thin and warm sliding from my chest and bunching in my lap. My room was flooded by the golden rays of the sun. Morning had come and it seemed like it had only taken a few minutes. I was still in bed, still in Sweetwater instead of the mountains of Tennessee where I had thought I was. My vision was blurred for a moment, but when it cleared, I saw Isaac standing in the doorway. Half naked except for a pair of loose black gym shorts, hair disheveled, meaning he had just gotten out of bed. "I think you woke the goddamn neighbors with all that screamin', girl." He informed me in a groggy tone, a worried frown on his face.

I stared at him as if I didn't know who he was. Then looked about the room, making sure this was actually reality because everything else had _had _to be a dream. "I'm sorry. I just-"

"Had a bad dream?" He finished my sentence.

I looked at him a bit embarassed and nodded. He released a deep sigh before coming to sit next to me on my bed, his weight on the soft mattress making me lean toward him slightly. We were both silent for a moment and I was almost too embarassed to look him in the eye. We'd been through this 'bad dream' routine several times as children when he would come in my room and sleep in my bed to keep me quiet at night. Back then, I knew I was plagued by some kind of Alp because my nightmares were more frequent than normal. Even when I was certain I had gone to sleep with happy thoughts, but that was our childhood. As an adult, it felt like it shouldn't have been like that. I felt like a child again, just having him here.

"Wanna talk about it?" Isaac asked, running a hand through his unruly, dark hair.

I sighed before responding, "Its...not that big of a deal, Isaac." And in return, his expression convinced me that it was alright. "Fine." I looked toward the window, watching the rays pour through the clean, white curtains. Then began. "It was another one with the yellow-eyed demon."

Isaac's head revolved in what looked like his irritation with me, or perhaps with the exact same dream. But eversince I first saw the demon in my dreams after Mama's death, we both knew it had to mean something. Especially since he came around nearly every night. Gran, being a strong believer in spirituality, always used to tell me the dreams were a sign of some sort. But I never believed her. I mean, should I have believed her or something?

"You don't have to go into detail." Isaac yawned.

"Thanks."

"But we're gonna have to get your mind off your dream. And I know just the place to make that happen."

He told me to get myself dressed so he could take me out for my first official day as a resident of Old Town Sweetwater. Within the course of an hour, I had put on a red flannel shirt with cut-off sleeves and a pair of denim shorts. I chose not to make up my face as heavily as I usually would for the sake of knowing that I was out in the country, but a simple addition of bold, golden eyeshadow and eyeliner was enough to atleast make me feel presentable. I had a strange compulsion to wear makeup whenever I left the house, not that I needed it or anything, but feeling imperfect at any point was not an option. By the time I was ready for the day, Isaac was waiting for me in the kitchen downstairs, tossing his car keys up into the air as if he were impatient with me. I was surprised to see that he was dressed also in a red flannel shirt and denim jeans with a pair of black cowboy boots. In fact, when we both saw each other, our eyes grew wide in shock at first, then we enjoyed a hearty laugh. Memories of our childhood had come to mind of those days where our parents would dress us in the same colors. I guess it just became a part os us or something.

"Where're we going again?" I arched an eyebrow at him.

Isaac chuckled and started toward the front door, continuing to toss his keys into the air, catching them in his large palm with ease. "One of the things I promised mahself I would do when I moved out here was get a self-run business going." He stated, opening the door.

I walked after him, turning to face him once I was beneath the threshold. The sun was warm against my back and I could see the gem-like reflections in his eyes while he gave me a look of half-hidden excitement. "I didn't know you were the business-man type." I retorted in an obvious taken-aback manner. "And I thought you got over the whole dream of wanting to be a big-time pimp."

He shook his head at me and stepped forward so that I would move out of his way, pulling the door closed behind him with a quiet click. "Too hard out there for a pimp, darlin'. Let's just say...I hope you like hometown country whiskey."

We walked out onto the driveway where a black Ford pick-up truck was parked. I climbed in first after Isaac unlocked the doors, then he slid into the driver's seat and started the engine. The roar of life sounded quite close in comparison to my own pick-up, but more powerful. He'd probably installed a new engine or something like he used to do for money back in high school. Backing out of the driveway, we started rolling down the main road and my eyes were soon busy with observing the nature of my new home. We drove by several other houses and I saw plenty of ranches and barnyards from whence horses and cows poked their heads up to watch us pass, their jaws working furiously on cud and hay. I enjoyed the way the sun streamed through the tree tops. In fact, I thought of taking pictures but realized I'd left my camera at my house. No longer than ten minutes later, the truck slowed to a stop and my attention shifted from my passenger window to the windshield. I first saw large, red neon letters shining from a medium-sized square building which read: Sickhorn's Lounge. And below that, a glass door with a bright, red bullhead spray-painted on the outside, each horn curved so high up from its head they could touch the door post. I squinted and saw several lifeforms moving behind the glass door, some holding trays and glasses while others simply foot-danced about or walked by casually.

I almost instantly sat up in my seat with the most evident of excitement and gave my brother an astonished glance. "Mother of Christ, Isaac." I almost swooned. "You don' got yerself a bar?" I was a bit startled at the way my Southern drawl had suddenly spilled from my lips, and apparently Isaac's raised brow indicated that he was a bit taken about himself.

"Figured it was worth it since I was new and needed to make a name for myself out here. You know how I am. I need fame for _something."_

I settled down a bit, slipping back into my former, professional, city-girl disposition. It took a moment before I could speak again. "I know this is gonna sound a little kiddish, but what if your townsfolk don't like me. I'm a city girl, after all."

"Relax. Anyone related to Isaac Proctor is the shit in this town." He laughed before tossing his long legs out of the truck and I did the same, immediately taking my place beside him as we both entered the bar.

The second those doors entered, country rock met my ears and I was nearly bobbing my head to the rhythm of the music as my eyes roamed about. Nearly everyone threw glances at us, causing my heart to jump a little, but I was good with hiding my coy tendencies. Especially since I was with my brother.

"Well look who decided to show up!" A sudden male voice blasted from the bar counter several paces across from us. Isaac and I looked up at the same time and saw a short man wearing a straw cowboy hat over his long, light brown ponytail walking briskly toward us. The second he approached, he wrapped his arms around Isaac so tight I could hear a strangled noise rise in his throat and at the same time, the man managed to maintain enough masculinity for me not to assume that him and my brother were partners.

"Good to see you too, Shawn. But I was here two hours ago." Isaac coughed once the short man released him, bending over slightly to catch his breath.

"I know!" Shawn laughed loudly and heartily, slapping Isaac on the back with a loud thump. "I'm hoping to get closer to a raise each time I show my enthusiasm to see ya, boss. Duh."

Isaac simply chuckled. "It's good to know atleast _one _of you has hope. Anyway, I have someone to introduce to y'all."

I felt my face flush the second I heard those words and almost tucked myself behind Isaac as if we were in middle school standing before bullies. Shawn looked at me and I watched as his eyes brightened with more excitement than he had displayed before. I smiled politely at him and he returned the favor with a wide-toothed grin. "This here is my little sister, Erika." Isaac introduced me. "Erika, this here is my head chef, Shawn Michaels."

Shawn reached out and grabbed my hand from my side, giving it a hard, downward shake before I could even register what had happened. "Oh!" I exclaimed involuntarily, giggling nervously afterwards to play off my surprise. "It's nice to meet you, Shawn."

"And my pleasure to meet _you, _ma'am." Shawn returned. "Where ya from?"

"Miami."

"Oooh. City girl. We don't get a lot of those 'round here."

"But she'll fit in just fine, right Rika?" Isaac gave me what he thought was a light tap on the back which initially sent me forward a step. "And you don't have to worry 'bout bein' unemployed for long. I got a job for you here as a bar tender."

I turned to him and gasped. "For me? Isaac!"

"Just until you find somethin' else to busy those hands of yours." He added with a smile.

"You're amazing. Did you know that?"

"Yeah. That's what _she _said!" Shawn interjected, hitting both Isaac and I on the arm as he suddenly exploded into self-exhaulting laughter. "Man! I can't believe how I crack my own ass up!"

Isaac and I exchanged glances, faking laughter as best as we could. "You should go around and meet the other locals." He suggested, nudging me. "I promise they won't bite."

"'Least not all of 'em!" Shawn burst into laughter again, then suddenly stopped. "No seriously..."

I furrowed my brows at him, but decided to ignore the comment...or pun...or whatever he was trying to get at and held out my wrist like a formal lady at a royal ball. "Would you like to show my around the bar, Shawn?" I asked in a kind tone. "I'll need to know who I'm working with before I start this job."

"Sure, but Isaac here probably won't make ya work until next week. And what's today? Wednesday? Yeah, ya got plenty of time, darlin'. Oh, but don't let me tell ya I'm gonna show you around and then forget, 'cause that actually happens quite often." He laughed once again, this time it sounded more like he'd tired out his lungs and was wheezing for dear life. I held my current expression as not to wrinkle my nose at him. Apparently I had some things to get used to in Sweetwater.

Shawn walked me toward the bar where he sat me down and ordered me a drink, assuring me that it was on his tab. I nodded my gratitude, noticing the young bar tender behind the counter. He was about Shawn's height, maybe taller, with long jetblack hair hanging in a ponytail past his shoulders. He was dressed in a blue T-shirt and a red apron which hugged his athletic frame and a pair of low-riding jeans hung from his hips. As soon as Shawn told him what drink to get me, he was gone and back in no time. Or maybe I had just blinked too long...

"Here you go, ma'am." He said in a monotone voice, setting the mug of golden beer down before me. He had a strong Southern accent to match those red-boned features of his that I particularly admired. "You new in town or somethin'? I don't reckon we ever met before."

"We haven't." I replied kindly. "I just moved here from Miami. Call me Erika. I'll be your co-worker soon according to Isaac."

"You know Isaac?"

I nodded. "He's my brother."

"Well whip me twice and call me a hootin' nanny." He gave a light smile. "He told me a long time ago he had a little sister. Didn't know she was so pretty, though."

I would've blushed, but I didn't want to come off as a flirt. Especially in front of the young buck. "Thank you. Didn't catch your name, by the way."

"It's Matt. But when I'm workin' the nightshift it's Dr. Mattitude."

"Nice to meet you, Mattitude."

"No. Right now...its just Matt."

"Right." I blinked and looked around for Shawn. To my surprise, he was nowhere to be seen. Same for Isaac. I lifted my mug to my lips as Matt left to tend to his own duties, silently examining the others in the lounge. All I could hear was music and chatter which actually brought peace to my bones, knowing that everyone seemed to be acqauinted if not on a friendship level. I wasn't sure if I could call Shawn a friend or an acquaintance. Or Matt, for that matter. In the process of focusing on everyone else's affairs, I didn't realize that I had sucked in a gulp to thick for my own throat and the next thing I knew, I was coughing quietly, placing a hand over my mouth to keep from spitting up beer. The back of my throat started to burn like hell fire, but I managed to swallow down every ounce. The second my glass came down on the counter with slamming force, I noticed something lingering on its surface. A reflection. Squinting my eyes, I realized that the reflection was coming from far behind me, directly infront of the door and from what I could tell, it was of three masculine figures. I turned my head to look over my shoulder and there they were. Two enormously-built men stood on either side of a shorter man wearing a pompous expression on his lined-up features. The man to his right wore a darkly tanned complexion, his entire body rippling with muscle so much so that his arms literally jutted out like a gorilla on steroids. His eyes were a bit large for normalcy, deep brown, both captivating and difficult to look into because they reminded me of a psychotic jail escapee. There wasn't much to the rest of his face besides his rugged shave and pointed ears.

The second enormous was African-American and sported a well-done faded haircut. His eyes weren't as big and crazy, but he still wore a look that made my bones chill. His biceps were so expanded, the sleeves of his black TapOut shirt could hardly contain them.

After observing the two tall men, my attention rested on the shorter male in the middle whom I assumed they were in protection of. His short black hair was slicked back against his head and the sunlight sent a glare bouncing from his lip ring all the way to my curious eyes. He wasn't as built, but still had an athletic look. In fact, he had the posture of a trash-talking fighter. Then again, I could've been judging.

"Excuse me, good people of Sweetwater." The shorter man spoke loud enough for everyone to hear. The music immediately softened to nearly silence and all eyes turned toward the three standing before the door. He sounded much like a city-boy, a drawl that was easily recognizable especially by me. I didn't know what it was about those three, but I had a feeling in my gut that something about them being here -the whole picture I got from spotting the looks on everyone's faces at their arrival- was not right. "I'm looking for Isaac Proctor."


	3. Chapter 3

**I know the story's going a bit slow at the moment, but I promise there will be some good, gritty, toe-curling stuff to look forward to.**

**Chapter 3**

I don't know why I felt like I should'nt have, but I turned my barstool all the way around to get a better look at these men than I had before. At the mention of my brother's name, I could'nt help the curiousity that bloomed in me and at the same time, my demeanor had grown awfully serious. All sorts of questions filled my mind at that point: _Who were these men? Why were they looking for Isaac? And what kind of business were they planning to handle? _

Isaac approached them at that moment. I hadn't seen from which direction he came since I was practically lost in thought. He wore a look of both caution and warning on his face, his entire posture seeming to change into something protective...hardly protective of himself, but protective of everyone else in the bar. The entire room was completely silent, observant, curious, a bit unnerved. Especially when the shorter man of the three curled his pierced lips in an eerie grin that Isaac looked like he wanted to slap off his face. "The hell do you boys want?" Isaac asked in a harsh tone, his voice low but I could still hear it from here.

"Shall we handle our affairs over a meal?" The grinning man asked back, gesturing toward an empty booth nearby.

I watched Isaac''s jaw tighten slightly and then he nodded once with a deep sigh. It was then that everyone in the bar resumed their current duties and activities. As the three men walked Isaac to the empty booth, I turned my stool back around and saw Matt cleaning out a glass mug with a white rag. The look on his face deeply concerned me, like he wasn't too appreciative of the trio's apprearance, either. I swirled my beer around in the mug a bit before I couldn't help but ask, "Who are those guys?"

Matt's gaze shifted toward me and his expression never softened. "Those freaks of nature? The bastards call themselves the Nexus wolfpack. They think they're so damn high and mighty just because this bar is built on part of their territory."

I frowned slightly, unsure of whether I had heard incorrectly or if he actually said 'wolfpack'. "What do you mean by that?" I asked, lowering my voice.

"It means they always come here to take Isaac's goddamn money for unreasonable shit. I told the man to just move the bar somewhere else, but for some reason, he just refuses."

"No. I meant, what did you mean when you called them the wolfpack?"

Matt's gave me a glare like I was a complete idiot. "Look, ma'am, I know you just moved here an' all, but there're certain things you shoulda known already." He replied dryly. "They're wolves. Like the ones you see on TV that turn to big, harry monsters under the full moon and what not. Except, they turn whenever the hell they want to. Keeps 'em alive when its time to hunt. But they prefer to be called lycans, 'cause they think werewolf is too kiddy for them."

I swallowed and it felt like a two-ton rock had dropped into my stomach. _Does he seriously think those things are real or is he apart of some roleplay? _I felt my shoulders bounce once as I let a chuckle slip out and got a mean glare in response. "I'm sorry." I shook my head. "It's just that...the way you put that whole thing...that was really good. Keep it up and you could get an acting job someday." I chuckled a bit louder after that.

Matt stood still, glaring at me as if I had made fun of his mother. "You think that's funny? Werewolves in Sweetwater?"

My smile immediately faded at the sharpness of his tone. "Excuse me, but incase you didn't know, werewolves aren't real." I found myself lashing back. "They're completely fictional."

Unexpectedly, Matt was the one to chuckle this time and I just stared at him like he'd lost his everloving mind. "Since you think you know everything about this town, I'm just gonna give you a warning, new girl. Watch. Your fucking. Neck." And with that, he turned and walked off, shaking his head slowly while laughing.

I bit my lip, tempted to give him a nasty reply, but chose not to. Instead I pulled a small tip out of my purse and placed it on the counter, taking my beer with me as I got up and left the bar. I paced forward a bit, very slowly as not to attract any attention, especially from the group I was currently watching. The Nexus 'wolfpack' with my brother, Isaac. I stopped when I could hear them clearly enough without getting very close. I was surprised I still had hearing this good even after those Miami parties I used to attend. I shuddered at the thought.

Isaac sat next to the window directly across from the shorter Nexus man while the enormous, exotic-looking one boxed him in. Their expressions were still the same. Isaac was practically scowling while the short man grinned with shit dripping from his teeth. "I don't want to make this very long, Mr. Proctor." He began in an even tone.

"How many times do I have to tell you to call me Isaac. Just Isaac! I ain't that old." Came Isaac's stingy reply.

"Names don't matter right now." The man waved the statement off. "What matters is what I want from you and your business at this point in time. Now. Are you willing to cooperate with me, Mr. Proctor?"

Isaac sighed, looked away, then back, pursing his lips together. He nodded.

"It's been four years since you built this old shack. You knew that right? Good. But there's just one problem. We've covered it before, but I feel like I need to reiterate the fact that you are on _Nexus_ territory. Therefore, I believe it to be fair enough that I should want 50% ownership of this here bar."

"Excuse me?" Isaac craned his neck, his eyes squinting as if he hadn't heard correctly. "I already give you guys nearly half my earnings just to keep my bar on the goddamn territory. You mean to tell me that ain't a'nough?"

The man shook his head. "Put it this way. What would be the point of a pimp taking money from a prostitute if he doesn't own her body himself?"

Isaac twisted his upper lip in confusion.

"I think its only fair, Mr. Proctor. Or Isaac...whatever your name is."

Isaac rolled his eyes.

"You should already know the consequences if you don't comply..."

"Oh gee, you're gonna knock down my bar." Isaac drawled sarcastically. "Tough shit."

"No, no, no. We're talking more than that." The man chortled haugtily. "If you don't sell us half-ownership of this bar, we're gonna march right over to Saint Anne Street and-" Before he could finish, a tall, blonde waitress approached the table, balancing a platter of food in her right hand. All four men directed their attention toward her just before she cut off my view of the short man with her slender frame. Squinting my eyes a bit, I noticed that their meal consisted of more meat than any other food group on the entire platter. I didn't know why it was something that drew my attention. _They must really love meat_, I thought to myself. Then other thoughts came to play...thoughts of what Matt had told me a few minutes ago.

I couldn't help but swallow just picturing those three men turning into big, hairy beasts. Especially the darkly-tanned one. He had enough beastly features to begin with. I was beginning to fear for my brother. I was beginning to fear that he would have to give away something that he loved all too dearly. I was beginning to fear that the man was about to threaten his life about the matter, in fact.

I sighed softly and lifted my beer to my lips to take another gulp, but just before my lips could even touch the glass-

"You know...I heard it's very rude to stare at people." The voice was masculine, baratone, and had come from behind me which didn't help my nerves worth the slightest.

I was instantly startled and whirled around so quickly that I almost lost my balance and fell to the floor. But when I saw who had spoken to me, my body all but froze in place and there was no way I would have fallen. It was almost as if time had taken a pause as I stared surprisedly up into dark, silver eyes, planted into a face so prominent and clean it had to be chiseled out of stone. I hadn't realized I stopped breathing until my chest began to burn and the second I let out that breath, time began again. I had seen male beauty before, but none that could leave me stammering in my mind to find words to say, dumbfounded.

The man wore a pleasing grin on his perfectly-carved features. He appeared to be both gentle and a bit of a red zone at the same time. Either way, I couldn't move or speak. I was that taken aback, so drawn into those silver eyes that seemed to be boring a hole into my soul, black, bottomless pits that pulled me in like black holes. I had to admit that I was lost for a moment, my spine almost instantly reacting with a single shiver.

"Don't worry." The man spoke again, his voice reverberating through my bones. I noticed the way the lights reflected off his perfect, bronze tan. It seemed to fit him so well. "I'm not a dog like those three you're watching."

I swallowed, realizing my mouth had been agape. "I'm sorry." I said without thinking. "I was just a little curious."

The man chuckled softly at me. "We all are. Poor Isaac always seems to be bothered with those three. He's not the only one who hates them, though." He glanced up at the booth where the Nexus and Isaac were sitting, then looked back down at me, his head tilting slightly. "And just why exactly are you so curious as to what those men are discussing over there?"

"Because the man they're talking to is my brother and I don't think that conversation is about anything good."

"Ah." His brows lifted. "You're his sister."

I nodded, glancing toward Isaac who was staring down at a long sheet of paper. "Younger sister." I added with that. "Are you a friend of Isaac's?"

"Well, you can say that." He retorted, straightening his neck. "I'd call us acquaintances though. We don't hang out like sandlot kids."

When I directed my attention back to him, I saw his eyes lifting as if he had just gotten through trailing my body. I almost frowned at him, but his kind smile quickly drove that away. "So, you must be the new girl in town I was just hearing about." He stated.

"That would be me." I giggled uncontrollably.

"Well, welcome to Sweetwater." He held out his hand for me to shake and it was then that I noticed his long arms and the muscle that bulged beneath his smooth, bronze skin. "I'm Randy Orton."

"Erika." I answered, nearly choking on air at the sight of him...again. I gripped his hand strongly to show that I wasn't intimidated by him but his grip was two times more powerful than mine. My hand was nearly red and swollen when he released me. "So can you tell me who they are?"

"Oh, sure." He gently took my arm and turned me around to face the group of men with my brother. His touch alone caused my spine to quiver a bit. I took a deep breath to calm myself and focused on the Nexus. "You see the short one with all the tattooes and piercings? His name is Phil, but he prefers to be called Punk."

"Um, Punk?" I frowned. "Why Punk?"

"He listens to a lot of punk rock music when he's reading his Batman and Robin comic books."

I arched an eyebrow at that.

"The big one with the straight hair is Mason Ryan. That big bastard eats nails and drinks gasoline for breakfast."

The man known as Mason Ryan surely was intimidating. I felt a discomfort in the pit of my stomach just from looking at him and those crazy, big eyes.

"The other one is Dave Otunga. I've had my beefs with him. He's not as dangerous as he seems, but beware if you're a pretty piece of meat."

"What does that mean?"

"Eh..."Randy paused and shook his head. "Nevermind that."

I turned back around to face him. "So are they actually..y'know...werewolves?"

Randy chuckled. "You're from the city, aren't you?"

"How'd you know that?"

"Only a city girl would ask that kind of question. But to answer it, yes...they are werewolves."

I couldn't believe a man who actually looked like he had some sense had just told me that werewolves were real. Perhaps someone had slipped something into my drink and everything I was hearing just sounded like something else.

"I already know you don't believe me. That's okay though. Most people don't when they first come here. We've driven away a lot of tourists over the years, but that's a story for another time."

I arched an eyebrow. "So do all these people know what they are?"

"Yes, they do."

"And they're still sitting around, chatting with each other like the Nexus are normal human beings?"

"Basically how it goes around here."

I almost exploded into laughter and how ridiculous it all sounded, but managed to keep it in while nodding. "I see there's gonna be some things I'll have to get used to, eh?"

"Oh, yes." He seemed to hiss the words and my smile almost melted in response. "I'd be happy to give you a tour of the town, if you like." His grin widened a tad, but his lips remained closed.

As inviting as it was, I had to decline. One thing I learned growing up was never to trust a beautiful man with a suspicious offer. Not that I was judging. He may have been a harmless, gentle soul, but I had no idea if that was actually true. He looked like a man who could have his way with me in no time and wouldn't have a second thought about it. Miami had taught me in plenty of ways to keep my gaurd up or be sorry.

"Oh, that's alright. Isaac was already planning to give me a tour." I shook my head and adjusted the strap of my purse on my shoulder. "In fact, as soon as he's done with his business, we should be going."

Randy didn't look the least bit disappointed. Instead, he simply nodded. "That's nice of him." He replied lowly. He then glanced past me and I instinctively followed his gaze, only to see Isaac approaching us while the Nexus were headed out.

"Um, well I guess I'll be seeing you around...I guess." I smiled nervously at Randy.

He smiled back at me and this time, I saw something flash across his silver eyes. "I'll be here tomorrow if you...need someone to drink with."

Just then, Isaac approached from behind. "We gotta go." He mumbled in my ear.

I nodded then walked with him toward the door, glancing over my shoulder to see if Randy was watching. And he was, wearing a look of amusment that made me weak in the knees. Once outside, Isaac was the first person in the truck and before I knew it, the engine came roaring to life. I climbed into the passenger seat as quickly as I could and shut the door, giving Isaac a look of concern. "Is everything alright?" I asked softly, gently touching his arm.

He turned to look at me, his face now red in anger and replied in a low growl of a tone, "I might never see my bar again..."


End file.
